rpgfandomcom-20200222-history
LayEd Cerulean Journal 3
Cerulean looked at the shiny orichalcum coin. He chuckled to himself thinking "This thing is supposed to teach me the ways Ba'ru-C'li?". It was a nice coin to be sure, but Cerulean wasn't sure he trusted this Thamon Ariok. It wasn't that he didn't trust Thamon's honesty, he just didn't believe that a Dwarf, and a Throalic Dwarf at that, would have any insight or knowledge into the art of Ba'ru-C'li. He decided to give the coin a chance, he had been doing that a lot lately, giving name-givers chances to prove themselves. It did bug him a little, but so far his hunches had been right. "Of course they were right!" he chided himself "I had them after all." Concentrating on the coin like he was instructed, Cerulean closed his eyes. He felt a small rush of magical energy build in the air and then nothing. Cerulean clucked his tongue and scoffed. "I should have known it wouldn't w- Ow! What the hell?" the words were interrupted by a staff striking the side of his head. Rubbing the side of his head where the staff had hit him he looked up and saw a Pale-One T'skrang standing (well not exactly standing, more like floating) in front of him. Dressed in thick furred dark-brown robes, from a distance the figure could easily be mistaken for a giant talking rat rather than a T'skrang. The strange figure looked down at Cerulean with obvious disdain. "How dare you address me? You are insignificant and weak. Not worthy at all of being taught by me! I, the great Master Fra Gra'meent does not have time for the likes of you!" He smacked Cerulean with the staff, this time on the top of his head. "You have the reflexes of a hatchling, the grace of a Troll, and the brains of... a bowl of soup!" The staff moved swiftly, almost a blur. Cerulean, being prepared for an attack this time, raised his hand and caught it before it again hit him on the head. "Stop hitting me with your staff!" Cerulean demanded. "Oh?! And why should I? Have you earned your respite?" the staff vanished from Cerulean's grip and struck him on the opposite side of his head "Ha! Being incorporeal has it's advantages you know!" He paused to look Cerulean over. "Look boy..." "My name is Cerulean T'K'Nchtlkt." "Fine, Cerulean" he pronounced the name with a mocking tone of voice, "I'm afraid I won't be able to teach you anything. You simply aren't worthy. You're too old and too slow." "Now wait just an Aal'visss' pickin minute! You've spent all of eight seconds talking to me and you've already made your judgment? Are we not T'skrang? Do we not both honor the great Dragon Lords? ... See here! I will not be spoken to in this way by someone whom I have never met before. You may be a powerful spirit but don't think that I won't find a way to destroy you!" Cerulean seethed with sudden anger towards the elder T'skrang standing, well floating would have been more accurate, in front of him. Fra Gra'meent smiled wide and toothily. "You will destroy me you say? That would be... difficult to say the least." The two T'skrang locked eyes and stared art each other for what seemed like an eternity. Cerulean couldn't help but notice a sort of wizened kindness deep in the eyes but also a strength that was very familiar. Their eyes remained locked as if engaged in a battle of wills. Fra Gra'meent blinked and then sighed heavily breaking the silence and the tension. "Fine... It is done. I wasn't busy for the next thousand years anyways." he mumbled. "Done? What do you mean it's done? What exactly is done? We haven't 'done' anything!" retorted Cerulean. The spirit laughed out loud. "Oh do shut up. You have won my boy; you are now my apprentice! I will teach you the secret ways of the Ba'ru-C'li. But I warn you, it will not be easy. Your training thus far has you off to a good start, but your former master seems to have failed to teach you to respect your elders. This is something we will have to work on." And as if to drive the point home, he again struck Cerulean with his staff. "Just promise me one thing," Cerulean added rubbing his head, "stop hitting me with that staff." "Don't worry son... If you manage to learn that which I have to teach you..." he leaned in close to Cerulean and added in a dramatic whisper, "I won't be able to." *Wack*